


Skinny Love

by prinanalogicality



Category: Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst, Based on Skinny Love by Birdy, M/M, One-sided feelings, Past Logicality - Freeform, Prinxiety - Freeform, Rejection, Unrequited Love, moxiety - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 17:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10995591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prinanalogicality/pseuds/prinanalogicality
Summary: And now all your love is wasted, then who the hell was I?This is the unplanned part two to my piece titled "Not About Angels." I suggest going back and reading that first if you have not done so already, though this can be read as a stand alone. I also suggest that you listen to the song "Skinny Love" by Birdy while reading, so you can get the full angst effect.





	Skinny Love

**Author's Note:**

> This can also be found on my tumblr, prinanalogicality. I take requests! :)

_Come on skinny love, just last the year_

**An existence.**

Existence has never been particularly easy for Anxiety. Anxiety, as he is the embodiment of a disorder, exists “to disturb the regular or normal functions of.” At least that’s how dictionaries define disorders - he supposes they are correct. He disturbs the regular or normal functions of Thomas. He keeps the male from sleeping (fear of nightmares), from eating (fear of choking/gaining weight), from going out of the house (fear of the unknown), from truly enjoying the life he has been gifted with (fear of _everything_ ). The life that Anxiety, as a disorder, does not really have.

_Pour a little salt, we were never here_

**A burden.**

The others get to live alongside Thomas. Anxiety is the crack across your phone screen, the sore on the back of your heel after wearing certain shoes, the eyelash that won’t get out of your eye. He is something that is always lurking, dropping in at the worst of times, but ultimately inevitable. He doesn’t deserve to truly live, not like everyone else. No, he is stuck with the burden of simply existing.

_My my my, my my my m-m-my m-my_

**A light.**

There is one thing that seems to ease the pain of continuance: The small dashes of brightness in his life. There are times when he can see stars twinkling in someone’s eyes ( _his_ eyes), and a dimpled smile ( _his_ smile) is directed at Anxiety because of something Anxiety said, did, and it all makes Anxiety feel as if maybe he isn’t such a bad guy after all.

Him. _Patton._ He treats Anxiety like he is worth something.

Patton’s smiles and Patton’s laughter are the two ingredients to the cocktail that gives Anxiety a taste of what it feels like to live.

_Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer_

**A reassurance.**

Anxiety never thought it would happen, but Logan and Patton broke up. It was a sad case of “I can change you!” Patton tried to make Logan happier, tried to make him feel more connected to his emotions. Logan tried to make Patton more stoic, more in tune to the logical side of things. In the end, they reached a mutual agreement that they were simply meant to be friends, colleagues even, and that was that.

For a brief period of time Anxiety felt bad for the two, but plenty of reassurance from both parties helped him to not feel so bad over how much time he and Patton have been spending together. He almost felt like the power couple had broken up because of Anxiety - for once they were able to get it through his head that something is not his fault.

_Tell my love to wreck it all_

**An infatuation.**

Each day is painful. Much coaxing from the cardigan clad male has lead to Anxiety leaving his room to eat at least a couple times a day and sit in the common room for a minimum of an hour - socialization is healthy, says Patton. 

But it hurts.

It hurts him, no matter how long this insufferable infatuation has stuck with him. No matter what Anxiety says, thinks, does, his feelings will not align with his wishes - he can’t stop loving Roman. He can’t stop loving the man who hurts him most, the man who is sure to remind Anxiety that he does not like him each and every time they are around one another.

Besides, why would he love a nonliving thing?

_Cut out all the ropes and let me fall_

**A shoulder to cry on.**

Things have been different since _that one day._

The day that none of them speak about. The day where Patton’s worries for Anxiety had gotten so bad that he and Logan forced their way into the male’s room, finding him in a fit of tears and short, harsh breathing. The situation seemed to flick a switch inside of Patton, one that revitalized his fatherly tendencies. He has always been a sense of constancy for Anxiety, but that day amplified his activity in Anxiety’s existence.

Every morning, Patton wakes up, checks on Anxiety to either A) make sure the facet is sleeping soundly or B) help him get to bed. He makes a healthy breakfast for each trait, though he is always sure to make a homemade cup of hot cocoa with mini marshmallows filled with love specially for Anxiety. The extra work is worth it when he enters Anxiety’s bedroom and he finds the male, just waking up (that is if he slept that night), his hair a messy bedhead, his lips pouted with sleep, and his face clean of any makeup. Only Patton gets to see him like this, he is the only one Anxiety trusts enough to see him without his mask of ghastly foundation and onyx eyeshadow.

The boy is beautiful. Patton has made it his mission to convey that to him.

_My my my, my my my m-m-my m-my_

It’s the little things.

Anxiety brightens Patton’s days, Patton brightens Anxiety’s days.

_Right in the moment this order’s tall_

**A promise.**

Anxiety thrives on Patton’s attention. Patton smiles at him, pets his hair, caresses his cheeks, makes him feel like so much _more_ , like he can _live_.

He tells Patton of how good he is. That he needs to stay who he is - patient, kind, balanced, and even if things tear him down, he must stay fine. At the bare minimum - fine, never truly bad, because Patton doesn’t deserve to feel negativity. Patton promises to do his best.

He is so bright, a beacon of joy in the bleak environment of Anxiety’s bedroom. Slowly but surely color has been bleeding into his room. Handmade art projects from Patton, little figurines on his nightstand, a white fluffy rug by his bed.

Every morning, when Anxiety gets up from bed, he feels the soft tufts of fur beneath his feet, between his toes, and he feels warmth in his chest - like Patton is there even when he isn’t.

_And I told you to be patient, and I told you to be fine_

**An acknowledgement.**

Patton does his best, but both he and Anxiety know that it isn’t enough.

Anxiety still wants, needs what he can’t have. No matter what Patton does, no matter what he says, he knows. He knows that Anxiety trusts him enough to confide in him, to tell him that he is in love with Roman, and Patton knows that there is nothing he can do to change that. He knows he has to wait, he knows he has to hope and plead to the heavens above that Anxiety will learn to move away from Roman and turn to someone who truly adores him, values him, but he also knows that that is not going to happen.

Patton loves Anxiety. That won’t be going away.

Anxiety loves Roman. That won’t be going away.

Patton does his best, but both he and Anxiety know that it isn’t enough. They know that Anxiety needs the other _him_. Roman.

_And I told you to be balanced, and I told you to be kind_

**A soft exchange.**

“Hey, Pat?”

“Yes, An?”

“Do you - do you think I even have a chance?”

“A chance of what?”

“Roman loving me back.”

“...You’ve gotta try to be positive, champ. Of course there’s a chance.”

**A lie.**

_And in the morning I’ll be with you, but it will be a different kind_

**An argument.**

“What did I do to you, Roman? What did I do to-to, to make you hate me so damn much?”

“You exist, Anxiety! Your mere existence places an unnecessary strain upon our host, how else would you expect me to feel?”

“You think I _asked_ to exist? Did you? Why can’t you just see _me_ \- why can’t you love me?”

“Love? Love is meant for the pure, for the deserving. Again, let me ask: How would you expect me to feel? Given who you are, are you pure, are you deserving?”

**A heart breaks.**

_‘Cause I’ll be holding all the tickets, and you’ll be owning all the fines_

**A step back.**

All of Patton’s progress was thrown away after that.

Anxiety wouldn’t leave his room. He refused. As a mental being that exists in Thomas’s mind, he doesn’t truly need to eat, go to the restroom - they all would do so to emulate a sense of humanity, but it is certainly not necessary. Anxiety is thankful for that. Without having to do those inconvenient tasks, the only time he ever spends out of his room is when he is forced to work, interacting with Thomas and giving Roman all the more reason to despise him.

_Come on skinny love, what happened here?_

**A hope.**

Anxiety’s drop in mood has done nothing to hinder Patton. Anxiety needs him now more than ever, he is always there. Anxiety even gave him a key to his room (not truly necessary, as they could simply wave a hand and the door would open since they live in a mind), but the sentiment means the absolute _world_ to him.

Even though his heart is crushed, Anxiety is still open to Patton.

It makes Patton feel as if he has a chance.

_Suckle on the hope in light brassieres_

**An arrangement.**

They cuddle. They hold hands. Anxiety allows Patton to touch his cheeks, to hold him, to card his fingers through his hair. In turn, Anxiety makes the first move to snuggle him, Anxiety holds his hand, Anxiety goes to him for support.

It makes Patton feel as if he has a chance.

_My my my, my my my m-m-my m-my_

**A confession.**

Time passes. Patton has been so patient, so kind, so giving, and for the first time, he asks for something in return.

He tells Anxiety.

He asks Anxiety for his love.

Anxiety looks taken off guard, but not disgusted, not repulsed, not upset.

It makes Patton feel as if he has a chance.

_Sullen load is full, so slow on the split_

**A question.**

“What? Pat, you - really? Me?”

“Of course you! I’ve always, you know. You’ve always been so precious to me, I love you a lot. And I’m not good with all of those fancy schmancy words like Logan and - him, but I love you so very much and it would be super duper fantastic if you, uh, um, maybe loved me back? A wee bit?”

“I don’t, I- I don’t think I can? I mean-”

**A voice crack.**

“You don’t love me back? Did I do something wrong?”

“Wait, no, listen to me, please-”

“Hey, uh, you know. I wasn’t really expecting this, so if you don’t mind, I think I’m gonna maybe - go to my room for a little while. Try to eat something today, yeah?”

**An exit.**

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to feel. Please, come back.”

**A full heart breaks.**

**A broken heart shatters.**

_And I told you to be patient, and I told you to be fine_

Logan is content having his nose in a book. Roman is content frolicking around, vanquishing beasts and saving princes and princesses alike. Patton listens to what Anxiety had told him and decides that he is far from good - not with Anxiety pushing him away as he had. But he is fine, _Fine_.

**A key is taken back.**

Anxiety is as far from fine and good as he can be.

He no longer has Patton’s comfort. His attention, the fingers to card through his hair, the smiles to keep him above water.

_And I told you to be balanced, and I told you to be kind_

**A sad realization.**

_That day_ seems to become every day for Anxiety.

Every day is full of crying. Every day is full of short, harsh breathing.

Every day is full of Anxiety’s heavy thoughts, his realizations.His love is wasted on someone who will never feel the same. Patton’s love is wasted on someone who so desperately craves that love, someone who wants so badly to return the sentiment, but cannot.

_And now all your love is wasted, then who the hell was I?_

**A craving.**

A mug of hot chocolate with mini marshmallows.

That is what Anxiety needs right now. He has not had one in so, so long. So he leaves his room.

He ventures out into the common room. Logan is typing on his laptop, sat upon Anxiety’s chair (at least it was his chair, but he hasn’t been there in so long, he understands Logan’s new claim on it). The acknowledgement bothers him, but not nearly as much as the sight of Roman and Patton curled up on the sofa together, Patton’s head resting against Roman’s shoulder, glee emanating from them as they watch _The Black Cauldron_ together.

**An escape.**

_‘Cause now I’m breaking at the britches, and at the end of all your lines_

Patton has remained fine. But after heartbreak, people seek comfort, and Roman was there for him. He is there for him.

He can see why Anxiety loves him.

He loves the way Roman sings. He loves the way Roman’s eyes twinkle when he speaks of his passions. He loves the way Roman gives his all to protect Thomas, even when Anxiety is the one forced to endure the constant blame and pointed fingers.

It makes Patton feel guilty. It makes him feel terrible that Anxiety trusted him and here he is, breaking that trust, lips colliding with Roman’s.

He gave his all to Anxiety.

One can only give so much until they need something in return, and when they do not get anything in return, they move on.

_Who will love you? Who will fight? And who will fall far behind?_

Anxiety just wants to be loved.

Anxiety just wants to love who he wants, not who he can never attain.

Anxiety just wants Patton back.

_Come on skinny love_

He knew he never had a chance with Roman, but now that Roman and Patton are together - he is reaffirmed that he will never feel loved or be loved. Never again.

_My my my, my my my m-m-my m-my_

Anxiety never leaves his room. Not for hot chocolate, not for anything. Duty calls, he is summoned to speak to Thomas - whether the others are there or not, he sinks back to his room.

He tries to find a sense of contentment in the color Patton left behind. He tries to find a sense of contentment of memories he holds involving the others, memories where they smiled at one another. Memories of their happiness, because if they are all happy, Anxiety hopes that can help him to feel better.

**A morning arises.**

When Anxiety gets up from bed, he feels soft tufts of fur beneath his feet, between his toes. Instead of the warmth he used to feel, he feels a chill, an empty chasm within his chest.

He just wants his warmth back.

He doesn’t want to exist.

He wants to _live_.

_My my my, my my my m-m-my m-my_

Nonliving things aren’t granted that reprieve.


End file.
